


Absolutely not.

by Aethelar



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Graves and Newt adopt Credence, M/M, over protective dad!Graves, rebellious not a kid anymore!Credence, this whole parenting thing is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 08:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15553674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aethelar/pseuds/Aethelar
Summary: “Do you have any idea -any idea- what could happen to you? You could get robbed, kidnapped, you could be -”“Held at wandpoint and marched into a pocket dimension from which the only way to escape is to get eaten by a leviathon and ride out in its stomach, IknowDad but have you considered that I mightnotbe?"





	Absolutely not.

**Author's Note:**

> Tasto777 on tumblr said:  
> Hey i just had the idea of daddy percival. Not sure whether you have done this before with your mummy newt... Anyways overprotective and caring percival. they could take credence with them and he becomes part of their family. And percy is so sorry for that boy how could grindelwald dare to use and hurt him hiding himself behind his face. And he cares so much for him and credence loves it until at one point it's just a bit too much and yes percy that boy is 23 and he can go out after midnight.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Dad. C’mon.  _Seriously._ ”

“Do you have any idea -  _any idea_  - what could happen to you? You could get robbed, kidnapped, you could be -”

“Held at wandpoint and marched into a pocket dimension from which the only way to escape is to get eaten by a leviathon and ride out in its stomach, I  _know_  Dad but have you considered that I might  _not be_?”

Graves glared. The wine glass in his hands squeaked in protest at quite how viciously he was drying it. Credence, elbow deep in frothy washing up water, glared back.

“You forget who your mother is,” Graves said finally. Credence winced, because, fair. “We spent the better part of a week in that stomach and I wouldn’t wish the experience on my worst enemy let alone my only son.”

“It still might not happen to me,” Credence felt the need to point out, trying to push down the warm-fuzzy that rose every time Graves called him his son. He was a grown man, damnit, he was attempting to assert his independence.

“No, but what if you ended up in something worse, hm? No one to get you out of it because you went marching off with only your own damn self to look out for you - “

“Or,” Credence snapped, all but throwing the next plate in the drying rack and coming perilously close to sending the whole thing clattering to the floor, “ _Or_  I could go out with my friends and spend a nice  _normal_  evening and call you for a lift when the party ends and actually be  _happy_  for once, did you ever consider that possibility?”

Graves’ brows lowered and his jaw set and Credence felt like screaming because he knew that look, he fucking  _knew that look_. Any chance of a reasonable conversation spiralled down the drain the moment that look entered the scene and nothing, not a single shitty thing about that look was fair.

“What’s the strongest shield charm your friends can cast?” Graves asked, voice low and calm.

“Dad - “

“How many,” Graves cut across, “How many of your friends can apparate while drunk, high, or mortally wounded?”

“Dad, please, that’s not - “

“ _Which_  of your friends could stand up to an ambush attack from an armed and dangerous dark wizard?”

“ _I_  could, ok?” Credence spun round, uncaring of the soapy water that slopped down his shirt as he did so. “I’m not a helpless little kid Dad, I’m not going to stand back and just  _let_  people attack me,  _if_  they attack me which they won’t because it’s just. one. night. out!”

For a long moment they stood there, staring -  _glaring_  - at each other across the draining board, the only sound the faint popping of the bubbles in the sink and the quiet  _drip drip drip_  of water from the tap.

Finally Graves let his glare soften into something fond and sad and far too old to belong to Credence’s over-dramatic, over-protective Dad. He blinked, taken aback, as Graves turned in silence and put the wineglass in the cupboard with the others.

“Dad?” he asked softly, feeling wrong-footed and not sure why.

“That’s what I thought,” Graves said, almost to himself as much as to Credence. He closed the cupboard but left his hand on the door, his eyes seeing something long past in the pale wood grain. “I thought I wasn’t helpless, I thought I’d be fine if ever anyone attacked me - not that I thought anyone would.” He blinked slowly, voice low and quiet as the memory resurfaced. “As you say, it was just one night out.”

Credence swallowed, because that,  _that_  is why he hated the look. What could he say? What the hell could he say? He knew how much Grindelwald messed his Dad up, he knew that his Dad still had nightmares about being taken, still had nightmares about  _Credence_  being a target, or his Mum, or the creatures or  _any_  of them. He couldn’t exactly say he didn’t care because he did, and those times when his Dad forgot where he was, forgot that his family were safe and started raising shields and looking round for enemies that were defeated years ago -

Credence knew that the rest of the world may have moved on, but there was a large part of Graves still stuck in a time when he wasn’t careful enough and it nearly cost him everything.

But at the same time, Credence was  _twenty three_. He couldn’t live his entire life with his Dad hovering over him, ready to apparate him to a hospital the moment he got a papercut.. Much as he loved his Dad, much as he  _understood_  his Dad, he needed some chance to be independent or he’d go mad.

“Dad,” he finally said, his voice rough and dangerously close to tears. “Dad, it won’t happen.”

Graves gave a disbelieving snort, still facing the cupboard with his back to his son and his eyes closed. “You can’t promise that,” he said lowly.

“No, but I can take Swoop. And - and Pickett, and Susie, if I bribe her.”

Graves shook himself back to the present and glanced over his shoulder. He saw Credence, standing with his shirtsleeves rolled up and soap bubbles on his hands, his little boy with his a hair a mess because he refused ever to let them cut it and his mismatched socks - but, also, a man with broad shoulders and a determined stance, Graves’ immovable shields and Newt’s tricky spells combined with Credence’s unique brand of strength.

He took a breath. There were very few things, he reminded himself, that could overpower an obscurial. He forced himself to raise an eyebrow and quirk his lips into a smile.

“A nightmare yoyo, a demented twig an unreasonably protective occamy?” he asked, deliberately light. “What exactly are you planning to get up to at this party of yours?”

Credence’s face brightened. “Nothing,” he said, speaking too fast and tripping over his words. “Nothing, I swear, it’s just friends - I won’t even drink anything I promise, not a single drop.”

“Oh, screw that,” Graves dismissed, flapping a hand and frowning. “It’s a party, you’re going to drink. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Credence laughed, leaning forwards in delight. “You mean it?” he asked breathlessly.

Graves braced himself. His little boy, all grown up, and still an overgrown puppy at heart. “I mean it,” he said, and flicked out a levitation spell to catch the frying pan Credence knocked onto the floor. “And don’t bother Susie, Newt says she’s broody at the moment. Swoop and Pickett are fine, but  _only_  if they want to go.”

“Swoop and Pickett, yes, one hundred percent,” Credence babbled, already halfway to the door. “I’ll ask them now, I’ll -” he stopped and gave Graves a heart-stoppingly wide smile. “Thanks, Dad. I mean it.”

Graves allowed himself a full four seconds to smile back before he waved Credence off. “Scram, kid. I’ll finish the dishes.”

He watched after Credence’s retreating back and he knew, he  _knew_  he wasn’t great at this whole father thing but when he got smiles like that, when Credence was happy and and laughing and going to parties like normal kids and so very far from the abused and broken child he'd been before, Graves thought, maybe, that he might have done ok.

_I promised I’d keep you safe_ , he thought despairingly to himself, then shook his head chidingly and turned back to the sink.  _Don’t make promises you can’t keep, old man._

_Don’t make promises you can’t keep._


End file.
